


I Miss Longing for the Dull Blue Sky Days

by nugatories



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Adultery, Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nugatories/pseuds/nugatories
Summary: I wish your eyes would reflect the color of the sky when I looked at them.





	I Miss Longing for the Dull Blue Sky Days

**Author's Note:**

> this is the kind of thing you'd have to read for english class and then look into far more than you should have to and then write an essay about it.  
> short and not-so-sweet. filled to the brim with references, themes, and underlying messages!! hope you enjoy!!

Sweltering through the large room was an orchestra's music, allowing its orgastic sound to pierce the eardrums in a manner that let everyone making movements in its presence come with a natural feel. It allowed all real issues to cease, and the mind went blank. Every problem, every disability, every worry and scare dissolved into the atmosphere as the violins and basses and instruments of many strings and sizes played their song. The room itself became the Garden of Eden, without a doubt. The tall, glass windows with little mosaics on them glistened as dusk approached, and a pink hue was added to the ecclesiastical aura given off upon entering. The antique wooden doors, being the only possible entrance or exit, were closed, and a metal bar was slipped into the golden handles to prevent further, uninvited guests from intruding.

The princess was the one who decided on barring the door. She had been aware of my situation; though it did not fare well for her, she was not too bothered. She was an admirable woman, but a reckless one indeed. She risked her title and security for my sake—or our sakes, rather.

After her soft hands let go of the secured metal bar, she pivoted her body towards me. I stood meters away from her, but she did not hesitate to move toward me quickly. The glimmering colors of the mosaics and the pink dusk theme glistened off her skin and hair. What was once platinum hair became pastel pink, and what was one a metallic dress became sequined and rose gold. I, myself, had a nearly reddish hue coating my body and attire. Our eyes, the memory retains, were still bright blue. And then her hands and mine collapsed together, and we stood in unison.

We stood there together for longer than we should have. Neither of us moved, but the two of us stood and watched each other, for nothing in particular. Our lips curved into faint smiles, and the pink soon turned orange. The instruments played on, so we played too.

Stepping in beat with the symphonies was an easy task. No pressure was on to dance well, and to ballroom dance had never been an issue for me, as I always knew how to do it. Every moment where I felt guilt or anxiety, something in the music would happen where it would all whisk away at a moments notice. I would still be tense, and the princess noticed this. She would part her fragile, tempting lips to ask about my state, but I would brush it off and say something coolly in return. There was no pain in the Garden of Eden. There were no signs of Hell.

I am sure the orchestra left when the mosaics stopped shining upon us. But I still heard them playing. I heard each individual instrument, and our quiet footsteps were the metronome. Our movements kept the beat, and our feelings and ears kept it all going. It was far too late for the two of us to continue dancing, but we did it anyway. The room was empty, barred, and dark. As long as we were alone, I could not think about anything else. I did not allow myself to think about anything else.

I let my mind wander in her eyes. Blue so bright, even in the dark, like a glowing spotlight was shining through her. As if the sun was her golden hair, her eyes were the skies and oceans, and her body was the Earth itself: a place were untold treasures lay, and her words and thoughts were God Himself. Whenever I left her palace to return home, I would be greeted with a mundane life, where the skies were a dull blue, somewhat cloudy everyday, and the people involved in my life could not make anything interesting for me. I found my escape there, in the blackened ballroom of the Novoselic place. Though my trips were infrequent due to the few times I had gotten close to being caught with the princess, I believed I have stayed under the radar well enough. I do not believe it is considered adultery if intercourse is not involved, so therefore, I was no adulterer. As of yet.

The night went on. Our legs and arms and eyelids grew heavy, but we refused to stop moving. I was only awoken by the orange mosaics lighting up again, pulsating through the glass and reflecting its colors. Like my typical morning coffee, the warm color twinkling gave me a reminder that as long as I believed the orchestra was playing, it would play.

My glasses were fogged from my heavy breathing, and my hair was messier than usual. I realized too late we both were sweating due to the intricate nature of our dancing, and the hours that passed by with our torsos pressed together and our slippery hands clasped around themselves. My lips were chapped, but hers were still glistering. Her makeup was intact, and though she was tired too, she remained upright, with immaculate posture; certainly a stature overwhelmingly fitting for a royal.

Soon before the bright blue came—as blue as her eyes and mine—we both fell to the floor in fetal positions, dozing off as we stared at one another. Her hand did not let go of mine, and though she fell asleep first, the hard, marble floor felt like the softest bed imaginable to me, and likely her as well. I closed my eyes and drifted off into a dream where we publicly announced ourselves as a couple at a ball, and then, with a grander, more heaven-sent orchestra, we began to dance before everyone there. It felt bittersweet to me, and I could not figure out why, regardless of how much I pondered upon it.

I slept through the dull blue sky that day, where halfway across the world, another girl my age sat, staring out the window, waiting for me to return to love her.

"B-Byakuya," She would mumble, tracing her finger around the clear glass she stood staring out through. "Come back soon."

She would stare at her lap, and then the floor, all alone. Uttering little more, she would follow up with: "Princess Nevermind might tire of dancing and tire of you one day. But of sound body and mind," She would then pause, if only for a simple second, to say, "I will n-never, ever tire of you."

And perhaps her brown eyes would reflect the sky, and become as blue as my own.


End file.
